


If We Do the Unthinkable, Will It Make Us Look Crazy?

by dojimasqueen



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Humor, just a oneshot collection, open to prompts!, pls send them i'll love u forever
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 17:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18856093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dojimasqueen/pseuds/dojimasqueen
Summary: A collection of Shumako oneshots, set both during and after the events of Persona 5. Always open to prompts.





	If We Do the Unthinkable, Will It Make Us Look Crazy?

Her gaze is glued upon the black motorcycle model sitting atop her desk. For nearly ten, long minutes, she has stared at the object, thinking back on the young man who had gifted it to her. She smiles at the memory of that day—Ren had rubbed at the back of his neck anxiously, uttering something about leaving her surprise back in Leblanc’s attic. He’d ran a shaking hand through his unkempt hair, hanging his head in embarrassment at his forgetfulness. Makoto could only giggle into her hand, completely taken by her boyfriend’s adorable actions. Her hand had slipped into the one at his side, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I don’t mind stopping by the café before heading home,” she had smiled, managing to nab his attention. “Though, you didn’t have to get me anything, you know. It isn’t even a special occasion.” Ren could only smile at her words, informing her that a queen never needed special circumstances to receive gifts. Her cheeks warm at the memory, just as they had that day. She had never quite gotten used to being referred to as a queen—more specifically, _his_ queen—and, most likely, never would. Yet, Ren continued, perhaps egged on by the blush that his words caused.

Upon their arrival to Leblanc, he had led her up to his makeshift bedroom. Makoto had nodded in Sojiro’s direction, greeting him with a polite _Boss_ and a smile. The older man had been unable to respond; waving at his guardian, Ren had all but dragged Makoto up the stairs and into the attic. He’d urged her to sit as he fumbled with the items at her workstation. With an _ah-ha_ and a grin, he had finally accompanied her on the loveseat.

“I passed by that shop, again, and saw it still sitting in the window, so I thought…” He had trailed off as he moved the box towards her. 

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Makoto had taken the box and inspected it. “Oh, Ren!” she’d gasped, observing the photo of a model motorcycle. “You remembered…!”

He nodded. “The last time we were in Electric Town, you saw this in the window and mentioned that it reminded you of Johanna.” Nervous, he rubbed the back of his neck. “T-they weren’t selling the display, so I bought the model kit. It’ll be fun to put it together, anyway!”

Ren had been a quiet young man from his first day in Tokyo. He spoke only when spoken to, only ever most vocal when acting as Joker of the Phantom Thieves. It had been somewhat difficult to get to know him, but Makoto had successfully torn down his walls. It was when he was pretending to be her boyfriend that she realized she had feelings for him. Perhaps she had known all along—casting curious gazes his way in Kaneshiro’s Palace; staring at him for far too long in Mementos; wondering what it would feel like to run her hand through his hair as they passed each other in the hallways of Shujin Academy… It had taken some time due to their Phantom Thief duties, but the two eventually confessed their feelings for one another in some sleazy bar in Shinjuku. Makoto had arrived home red-faced and beaming, earning herself a questionable gaze from Sae. Ren brought out a side of Makoto that she never knew existed—the student council president and honor student found herself sneaking glances at her cellphone during class, typing messages back-and-forth with her boyfriend far more often than she had in the Phantom Thieves group chat. The prim and proper young woman even began _lying_ about her whereabouts to her sister. She had been for quite some time, of course, what with entering the Metaverse, but she’d be damned if the elder Niijima sister discovered that her little sister was ditching study sessions to sneak around with a _boy_.

Of course, it had proven impossible to keep a secret from such a skilled prosecutor. During his interrogation after Shido’s Palace, Ren had divulged the secrets of the Phantom Thieves tactics. With how highly he spoke of Makoto, Sae had been able to deduce that _he_ was the reason her sister had been coming home late every so often. When confronted, Makoto had stammered, face on fire at being caught. Her sister could only smile and ruffle her hair as she had when they were younger, stating that she was _happy_ for her. Her happiness did not come with approval, however; Sae informed Makoto that she could not form a proper opinion on the young man, as she knew him only as the leader of the Phantom Thieves. She needed to get to know him as her little sister’s _boyfriend_ , but that would come after the change of heart in Shido.

Unfortunately, that chance never came.

Sae had grown busy with building a case against Shido, while the Phantom Thieves struggled with the public’s reception to his evil deeds. The group eventually came up with the idea to destroy the Metaverse by stealing the treasure deep within Mementos, successfully executing the plan on Christmas Eve. Ren had awakened to his full potential and defeated the god, Yaldabaoth, with the help of his friends. They lost their personas and Morgana in turn, and, after spending the evening with her, Ren turned himself in at her sister’s request on Christmas Day. 

They were supposed to piece together the model kit together, yet life had gotten in the way. Now, Ren sits alone in a solitary confinement, unable to see anyone from the outside. His fellow Phantom Thieves are still out there, and to the judicial system, that posed a threat. Makoto had researched solitary confinement online until she was filled to the brim with worry. Not even Sae could calm her mind, for she knew of the psychological trauma inmates faced when sentenced to segregation.

He was _alone_ , again, just as he had been when he arrived in Tokyo. No Boss, no Morgana, no Ryuji, no Ann, no Yusuke, no Futaba, no Haru, and especially no Makoto, who would wrap her arms around his lanky frame and press her lips to his jaw.

Delicate hands grip the model kit’s box, nails tearing into the tape keeping its contents secure. She pulls the bags of pieces out, separating them from the paint and tools provided. She hasn’t a clue how to piece together a model kit, but she’s certain neither does Ren. Were he here now, he’d set aside the included instruction booklet and attempt to figure it out on his own. The thought makes Makoto smile. She, however, is different, and learns much better when she can read through the steps. The honor student flips the instruction booklet open and begins piecing together the motorcycle.

Luckily for her, Ren purchased a _beginner’s_ kit. The pieces snap together easily, requiring minimal amounts of glue to ensure they stay that way. In no time at all, Makoto begins assembling the model’s engine.

A knock on her door pries her from her focus, startling her. She drops the pieces in her hands, and they fall against her desk. The glue has yet to settle, and the impact causes the pieces to break apart. “Oh, no!”

“Makoto?” Sae’s voice is muffled through the door, yet Makoto can make out the worry that riddles it. “Is everything alright?”

Frantic, the young Niijima gathers the scattered pieces from her desk, sticking them back together. She presses them against each other, hopeful that the glue will harden quicker. “Y-yeah! Everything’s fine, Sis!”

The bedroom door opens much to Makoto’s dismay. She can’t hide the model kit quick enough, can’t open her laptop fast enough to pretend she had been working on her research paper. It was difficult discussing her relationship with her sister; Sae wanted her little sister to excel in her entrance exams, and, in her mind, she certainly couldn’t if her mind was focused on a boy.

Especially one in juvenile hall.

“I heard something break,” the elder Niijima surveys the room for the source of the noise. Bright, red eyes fall upon Makoto’s desk, eying the model kit pieces with curiosity. “What are you doing?” 

“Um.” It’s difficult to _lie_ to her sister. It was difficult before Sae knew the identities of the Phantom Thieves. It’s even more difficult to explain the meaning behind the model motorcycle. “Putting this little toy together. Just trying to pass the time.”

Sae raises an eyebrow in question. “That certainly doesn’t _look_ like a little toy.” She steps toward the desk, standing beside Makoto’s chair. She picks up the small container of paint. “Is this a model kit?”

“Y-yes.” _From my boyfriend._

Manicured hands take hold of the empty box. Turning it over, crimson eyes read the kanji printed across, glancing at the photo of the finished product. “A motorcycle?”

Makoto nods, face warm with embarrassment. She struggles to hide it and the miniature engine in her grasp. “It was a. . . gift.”

Imperial red lips part, forming an ‘O’ in understanding. Makoto forces herself to look at her sister, meeting eyes so similar to her own. “I see,” Sae observes, setting the box back down on the desk. “From the boy, correct?”

 _The boy._ Even without a successful change of heart, Sae had begun bettering herself. No longer did her career dominate her life—instead, Sae vowed to spend more time with her sister, and ease up on her behavior. However, she works tirelessly one last time in order to free the young man who saved his friends by turning himself in. Makoto did note that some habits were difficult to break, hence why Sae referred to her sister’s boyfriend as _the boy._

“You know you can’t call him that when he’s here, right?”

“Oh!” Sae wraps an arm around herself, balancing her opposite elbow on her forearm. Her hand dangles carelessly beside her face. “To be fair, I _am_ your guardian. Isn’t it a bit fitting for me to refer to your boyfriend that way?”

Makoto notices the smirk tugging at the corner of her sister’s mouth. She always did have an odd sense of humor. “Sis! This is serious.”

Sae’s hand opens, palm facing Makoto. “Okay, okay. From _Ren_ , correct?”

Makoto tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Mm-hm.”

Behind her, Makoto hears the springs on her bed squeak as her sister takes a seat. She sets the miniature engine down and swivels her chair to face her sister. Sae is clutching her Buchimaru-kun plush toy.

“So the boy—” Makoto shoots Sae a glare. “— _Ren,_ bought you _that_ as a gift? Have you not shared your love of Buchimaru-kun, yet?”

“I-I have. . .” Was there a proper way to explain that this model kit had caught her eye? That it reminded her of her Persona’s former form? “But, he caught me looking at it when we passed the store.”

A silver eyebrow raises in confusion. “And that constitutes to you _wanting_ it?”

“Well, no, but. . .” She sighs. “It’s a bit hard to explain, Sis."

Sae sets her sister’s plush toy aside and cups her chin in thought. She was no detective, but her work as a prosecutor taught her how to make arguments with the facts she had gathered. She recalls her interrogation of Ren, and his explanation of the Metaverse. Though he did not name names, he did explain that he and his teammates awakened what he referred to as _Personas_. One of those teammates’ Personas took the form of a motorcycle—the one involved in Kaneshiro’s Palace that she previously deduced to be Makoto. With that in mind, it’s easy to conclude the meaning behind the model kit. “It has to do with your Persona, doesn’t it?”

“How did you—”

“Your boyfriend said something about one of you kids having a motorcycle as a Persona.” She eyes her little sister. “Judging by this model kit, I believe it’s safe to say that was you.”

Meekly, Makoto nods and swivels her chair around. She begins putting together the motorcycle’s frame. The miniature pieces snap together perfectly, and she need only add sparse amounts of glue to keep them in place. She feels her sister’s intense gaze on the back of her head, and it makes piecing together the model kit a bit unnerving. Nonetheless, she manages to push through it. The model is nearly finished in no time.

“He’s a good kid, you know." 

Sae’s voice breaks the silence, and Makoto nearly messes up the intricate paint job to make the model resemble Johanna a bit more. “Huh?” She sets the paintbrush atop the kit’s box and swivels once more to face her sister. “What do you mean?”

Silver hair bounces in time with Sae’s soft laughter. “You of all people should know what I mean.” She stands and walks to Makoto’s side, placing a hand atop her shoulder. “He bought you an expensive model kit because it meant a lot to you. I don’t entirely understand the concept of Personas, but yours must have meant a great deal to you if you wanted something that reminded you of it.”

“W-well. . .” She could be open with Sae, now, as the older woman no longer carries around the stress associated with her profession. In fact, Sae was sharing more with Makoto than ever before, informing her of her idea of becoming a defense attorney. “Personas are. . . _were_ , tricky things. It’s like awakening your inner rebel. I… awoke mine in Kaneshiro’s Palace. He was talking nonsense about you, and it pissed me off.”

The revelation of the Metaverse had to have thrown Sae for a loop during Ren’s interrogation. This, Makoto believes, is no different. She watches Sae furrow her brow in thought. Her law school education hadn’t prepared her for something of this caliber, but she would attempt to understand it for her little sister. She flips her hair out of her face and picks up the model motorcycle. “Your inner rebel... It would make sense that _you_ would have a motorcycle, then.” Sae turns the figurine in her hand, examining every detail. Oddly enough, she doesn’t find it difficult to picture her little sister atop one of life-size. “Spare me what that prick Kaneshiro said about me.” A smile graces the elder Niijima’s face. She sets the figure down and places her hand back atop Makoto’s shoulder. She squeezes it. “Just know that I appreciate you sticking up for your big sis.”

Makoto’s smile matches her sister’s—they both inherited it from their father. “Always. Even if you _can_ be a pain.”

Sae rolls her eyes and leans forward, pressing her lips to Makoto’s forehead. She wipes the lipstick mark from her skin after pulling back. “I love you, little sister.”

“Love you, too, Sis.”

As Sae approaches her little sister’s bedroom door, Makoto stops her. “Sis?”

“Yes?”

Makoto looks to the ground, wringing her hands in her lap. “Is he... Is he going to be okay?”

Sae’s fingers wrap around the doorframe. She offers her younger sister a nod. “I’m doing everything in my power to make sure he’s treated fairly and out as soon as possible.”

Makoto breathes audibly through her nose, lungs burning from holding her breath in anticipation. Habitually, she tucks her hair behind her ear once more. “Thank you.”

“Finish up and get some sleep. You have school in the morning.” 

With that, Sae leaves her sister’s room, leaving Makoto alone with her thoughts. The young woman turns her attention back upon the model kit, finishing up the final steps. She applies adequate amounts of paint as she goes, making it look more and more like Johanna as time goes on. After the paint and glue has dried, she snaps the wheels in place and extends the kickstand, setting it down on her desk. “One last touch...” She mumbles to herself, dipping her paintbrush into a pool of black paint. Intricately, she draws a cat face on the model’s windshield. It wasn’t as detailed as the work Yusuke could undoubtably do, nor did it resemble Johanna’s face whatsoever, but with her lack of artistic skill, it would have to do. Makoto smiles to herself. 

Admittedly, it would have been far more enjoyable to have built the miniature motorcycle with Ren, but seeing the box atop her desk day-after-day caused her a great deal of pain. The unassembled product served as a reminder that her boyfriend sat alone in a cell, uncertain of when he would see his friends, again. Putting it together allowed her to get her mind off of the situation, and Sae’s intrusion assisted with that. But what did Ren do each day to keep his mind off of it all? No, she can’t think like that... She can only hope that Ren would not be upset upon seeing it.

The honor student pushes her chair away from her desk and stands, stretching her limbs. She wanders over to her dresser and picks out her pajamas for the evening, not willing to spend time alone with her thoughts in the shower. She removes her halter vest, shirt, and skirt, and tosses them clumsily into her hamper. Reaching behind her, she unclasps her bra and slide the straps down her arms. She folds it and sets it atop her dresser. Makoto takes a moment to gaze at herself in the mirror, noticing the dark circles beneath her eyes from lack of sleep. She hopes tonight will be better.

After shrugging into her pajama top and stepping into her pants, Makoto crawls in bed. She clutches the Buchimaru-kun plush tightly against her chest and stares at the wall. It was difficult for sleep to find her these days, what with her worry over Ren. Turning over, she reaches for her phone charging atop the nightstand. Her thumb presses the home button twice—once to awake it from sleep, and once to unlock it. She taps the messenger application and scrolls through her last conversation with Ren.

Makoto: My apologies for leaving so suddenly.

Makoto: And on Christmas Eve, no less.

Ren: It’s okay. Sorry for acting so strange.

Makoto: We just saved the world from a god. It’s okay to act a bit strange.

Ren: I guess.

Ren: Do you and your sister have plans for Christmas?

Makoto: None in particular. I believe she’ll be working late, so we’ll probably have our Christmas cake the next day.

She finds herself frowning at the words on her screen. How could Ren have been so nonchalant knowing he was going to be sent to juvenile hall the next day?

Ren: Cake sounds really good right about now. Maybe I’ll go buy a slice. 

Makoto: Ren! I’m sure Boss will give you some of his and Futaba’s tomorrow.

Ren: Are you tired?

Makoto: A bit.

Ren: You should get some sleep.

Ren: Goodnight, Makoto.

Makoto: Oh. Goodnight.

He hadn’t responded directly to that text. At the time, Makoto figured he had been too tired to continue the conversation. Now, however, she knows the truth. She closes the application and puts her phone back to sleep before setting it back atop the nightstand. She rolls onto her back, burying her nose in her plush Buchimaru-kun. The scent is comforting, and though she aches for Ren, Makoto drifts off to a dreamless sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> It took me around two weeks to write this initial chapter. I originally began writing it while playing through the game's ending. I wanted to make sure I had a solid understanding of the characters before finishing it, and I believe I succeeded! I know the motorcycle was a figurine in the game, but I thought it would be fun to play around with the idea of it being a model kit. Ren's idea to have them build it together added to the angst. Apologies for the abrupt ending, but I felt it necessary given the angst genre. As written in the description, I am open to prompts left in the comments! Hope you all enjoyed.


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